


Nocturnal Emission

by OnlyTheInevitable



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Sharing a Bed, Voyeurism, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 20:11:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17608133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyTheInevitable/pseuds/OnlyTheInevitable
Summary: Scully watches Mulder have a wet dream. MSR.





	Nocturnal Emission

**Author's Note:**

> Who doesn't love a good ol' trope with a twist?

They are adults. Full grown, tax paying, insurance holding adults. They'd gone around the world fighting depraved criminals and paranormal mysteries, staring pure evil in the eyes so many times they'd probably never get out of the periphery. Sometimes it felt like they were taking on the world by themselves.

All perfectly good reasons as to why it was ridiculous for them to be standing on either side of this queen bed like awkward teenagers, staring at the mattress in front of them with crimson cheeks.

"I can take the floor, really. It's my fault after all."

She chuckled humorlessly, pulling back the covers as if the prospect of sharing a bed didn't both excite and terrify her."Don't be ridiculous, Mulder. We're adults."

Adults with so much sexual tension they were a hair's breadth away from jumping each other on a normal day. A normal day consisting of them being fully clothed in different motel rooms, not stuck together in the world's most cramped and inconvenient motel room with one bed.

"Oh, trust me. I know," he murmured, eyeing her revealed skin appreciatively once more before sliding under the covers on his side. She may have entertained the idea that he forgot to book the arrangements on purpose if it wasn't for his clear embarrassment about his lack of sleepwear. She'd always known he slept in his boxers, but not while he slept right next to her. She didn't fare much better; just a thin cotton t-shirt with a pair of booty shorts.

They both settled down, turning off the lights and tucking themselves in as they laid still, basked in the glow of the moonlight. When it became clear he was done, she realized he was giving her so much room that she was sure he had to be hanging half off the bed. "Mulder, are you comfortable?"

"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Do you have enough room?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered, embarrassed at being called out. "I'm fine."

She looked over at him and saw he was staring straight up at the ceiling, looking uncomfortably stiff. "I promise I won't bite."

She regretted saying anything when an eyebrow cocked suggestively. "Are you making a pass at me, Scully?"

She rolled her eyes and, from his laughter, he must've sensed it. "Goodnight, Mulder," she chastised, rolling on her side to face the clock.

"Night, g-woman," he teased.

She felt him shift in place a few times before inevitably succumbing and scooting closer to her, not quite touching but close enough that she could feel his body heat under the thin blanket.

Instinctively, she wanted to back up into him. Feel his skin touch her back as he wrapped his arms around her. But she shook the thoughts from her mind as quickly as they came. Instead, she focused on the clock on the nightstand.

11:12

A sigh from Mulder.

12:15

Mulder tossing and turning a few times while punching the pillow.

1:08

Would the night just consist of her laying straight as a board, hoping for just a chance that Mulder might brush against her. God, this sexual dry spell had turned her into a character from a Victorian novel.

How could she sleep when her half-naked partner was so close to her?

"Mmm," he hummed deep in his throat.

She started in the bed, somehow convincing herself she must've spoken that last sentiment outloud and he was replying. When she looked over at him, prepared to apologize, she was instead met with a completely unconscious Mulder. His chest was rising and falling to the steady beats of his breath.

A look of pain crossed his face and she raised herself up on her elbow to look at him. A light sheen of sweat had broken out on his hairline as his brow furrowed. She lifted her own hand as delicately as she could and placed it on his forehead, checking for a temperature, but not wanting to wake him and re-start the awkward process of trying to fall asleep. Especially if she had to then explain why she was touching him while he was unconscious.

A small gasp left his lips and she retracted her hand like the warmth of his skin had burned her. The quickness of her action was lewdly juxtaposed by the languid motion he made with his hips, thrusting them upwards to some unknown goal before falling back into the mattress.

It was amazing how many symptoms a fever dream and a sex dream shared. The latter of which she quickly realized Mulder was experience as the thin sheet above him raised under his turgidity.

She had to hold back her own gasp as she took in the sight. Mulder was hard as a rock and clearly doing something to indulge in that fact. He made another little sound in the back of his throat, almost like a muffled grunt, as his face turned on the pillow, facing her with eyes still clamped shut. His fists were clutching onto the sheets like a lifeline as he made little scooping motions with his hips, angling them upwards as he squeezed his thighs together.

The sight alone made her squeeze her own thighs together in faint mimicry, intimately aware of the wetness that couldn't be contained behind her lips and seeped out onto her outer folds. Had she been wet before seeing this or was she that quickly affected by Mulder? She didn't know, but she couldn't bring her eyes away from the sight in front of her.

Her breath caught in her throat as he rolled on his side a bit more, inadvertently scooting himself closer to her. She could feel his body heat and she was afraid even just the sheer weight of her attention would wake him up. "Ngh, fuck." It was murmured, but it was distinguishable. His face turned into the pillow even more and this time she caught him almost burying his face in it.

Only when he smelled it did she realize it was actually her pillow he was on and then suddenly the newfound force of his grinding into the mattress made sense. It also made every hair on her body stand up as goosebumps littered her body. "Sc-." She felt her lungs screaming for air, but she needed to hear that again. She needed him to finish that word.

She needed him to say her name.

She sank slowly down onto her back so that she was parallel to him, her face a few mere inches away from his. They were so close the minty undertones of his toothpaste hit her face and moved her hair as his breaths turned into rhythmic pants. It felt like his pants were synching up with the throbbing in her groin and it wasn't until she felt her own wetness hit the pads of her middle finger that she realized she snuck her hand down her pants and was starting to touch herself.

Always her partner, even unconsciously, Mulder lazily reached his hand down to press into the front of his crotch. There was no dexterity to it, but there was plenty of intent clear as he began rubbing himself against his hand. His jaw was slack and it gave her a perfect view of his pretty pink tongue. The tongue she'd spent countless hours imagining going back and forth across the very place she was now touching.

God, she shouldn't be doing that. A few years ago that thought probably would have caused her to turn away. Give him the privacy he deserved. Instead it just made her body pulse unbearably as she watched this display of pure human lust unfold in front of her. Mulder's subconscious lust. She took in an eyeful of what the falling sheet was offering. He was big. She'd always hoped. She'd always suspected. But now there was undeniable proof outlined by eight hard inches of stretched blue cotton. Occasionally he would hit the fly of his boxers so that she got a glimpse of his skin. It was red from the blood flow and glistening with precum. The moonlight gave her a perfect view and she silently counted her lucky stars he hadn't woken up.

"Yeah," he gasped as his brow furrowed again. Every time he thrust downward her side dipped into the bed slightly. They were that close. He turned his head into the pillow again, but this time she noticed his lips pucker slightly. 

She'd seen how he looked at her nowadays. Innuendos were slowly becoming offers in disguise. He wanted her, and every fiber in her being told her that dream-Scully was getting a lot more action than just a good show with some masturbation. She plunged two fingers into herself and she stilled almost instantly because of how loud the sound of her wetness felt in the room. Like a sharp disturbance in the cloud of lust deafening them. She pulled them out slowly and felt how her walls clenched around her, trying desperately to keep the digits submerged. As she drug them out, she made sure to rub her clit with the entire length of her soaked fingers. Now it was her turn to thrust her sex in the air.

Her mouth dropped open in a silent moan as she willed the sound to stay buried by the clench of her throat. For a second she worried the movement had woken Mulder up, but he simply fell back onto his back, still facing her as he pumped his hips in the air. The leg holes of his boxers were visibly being pulled away from his legs with the sheer rigor of his erection.

"-lee." Her fingers picked up the pace as the trail end of her name escaped from his throat in a strangled whisper. That's it, Mulder. Keep going. She was internally cheering him on as she saw the way his mouth was moving against the night, the way his hips were pleasing the dream-Scully whom she would give anything to trade places with.

She could see the precum leaking out of the tip of his boxers, creating a damp spot on the fabric that made the ridges of his head that much more prominent. She bit down on her lip hard in punishment as an actual sound left her lips and broke the silence of the room. Not quite a whine, not quite a moan, but definitely something that made her whole body still in anticipation of bright hazel eyes snapping open.

Except they didn't come. Instead the sound seemed to beckon him as he turned over and shifted a leg towards her, spreading his legs and now actually making contact with her. She started moving her fingers again, and this time she didn't care that there was a wet sloppy sound filling the air. All she could focus on was that Mulder, so beautiful and erect, was touching her as they both were enthralled in pleasure. God she needed this. She was caught in rapture as she pretended like Mulder's fingers, still clutching the bedsheets, were clutching her instead. That it was him slowly driving her to the brink of insanity.

"Scully," he moaned so viscerally that she could practically see the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Her name was all she needed as her body wracked with one of the most powerful orgasms of her life. She hoped the shaking of the bed wouldn't wake him because there was no way in hell she could stop it. She watched his hips undulate, and she imagined it was him she was clenching around instead of just a fantasy. She didn't let up the tempo of her fingers and she was glad as his own orgasm seeped through the material, coming out thick, hot, and white against the darkness of his boxers. It was undoubtedly the hottest thing she'd ever seen and this was probably the longest orgasm she'd ever had.

His face fell into the pillow as he thrust the orgasm out, blissfully unaware of the way his semen amassed and dripped down in globs onto the rest of his front. A lazy smile tugged on his lips and she hoped dream-Scully was placing sweet kisses on his face and telling him she loved him, because real-Scully's lips burned from being bitten so many times to repress doing just that.

Everything seemed so much quieter after that and she slowly pulled her hand out of her underwear, mindful to keep the elastic of her panties from snapping against her as she realized what just happened.

She masturbated less than a foot away from Mulder while she watched him have a wet dream about her.

In the moonlight she could see the way her fingers glistened from her arousal and she wiped them against the warm linens, figuring it wasn't the only mark going to be left on them as a reminder of tonight. She gasped again as she felt Mulder's hand slide over her belly, but when she looked at him she realized he was still asleep. Real-Scully just got to be dream-Scully for a while. He shifted his body closer to her so that his front was flush with her side as he laid his head a top her breast.

She felt the damp stickiness of his come hit her bare leg, but she wasn't even grossed out. This very well might be the most intimate, sexual experience she would ever have with Mulder, and she had no problem indulging in it within the privacy of the night.

For tonight, she would simply nuzzle herself closer to him, breathe in his scent, and be lulled to sleep by the comforting nature of the moment.

For the morning, she would wake up to a fully-dressed Mulder "accidentally" pouring a carton of orange juice on the bed. Even in her groggy morning haze, she knew it was directly on the stain in the middle of the bed and directly on the side he'd been nuzzled against. It was amazing how creative Mulder was when he was desperate to hide something.

"Oh shit, Scully. I'm so sorry," he lamented with sincerity, though she knew what the true apology was for.

She felt her own stickiness coating her thighs and she was honestly more endeared by his actions than annoyed. Turning over onto the orange juice without care, she stretched, not caring that her shirt had risen to show her midriff, and gave him a sleepy, seductive smile and in her sleep-laced voice asked, "Sleep good?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! -Nicole


End file.
